Chapter 8-2

Over the years, I've picked up a lot of skills. I've learned dozens of different ways to avoid someone in school. Knowledge that I hoped I'd never need again, now that I went to Arcadia. As it turned out, I was wrong and not in a way I was expecting either.

"We need to talk."

It took me all morning, but I finally managed to corner Sam in a quiet hallway. She had been using the same tricks I had once: sitting near the front of the class so she could get out before everyone else, changing the path she took to get to class, etc. Catching her was infuriating, to say the least. If I wasn't tracking her with my power, she probably would've gotten away. Even if she did look like she's barely been sleeping the past few days.

"Oh, um…Okay…" She stammered. Jeez, I just wanted to talk to her. I wasn't trying to eat her.

I couldn't really understand why Sam was trying to avoid me. She seemed okay when we parted ways two days ago. Obviously I was bothering her somehow. Maybe shooting those guys right in front of her wasn't my greatest idea. If my teammates were freaked out by my antics, I couldn't even imagine what would go through the head of a civilian.

Nevertheless, we had to talk. I knew she had powers and probably vice-versa. I couldn't leave the matter unsettled.

"Sam, you know you're my friend, right?" I bit my lip as she nodded like a woman possessed. "You don't need to be afraid of me."

"I-I-I know."

I sighed. If I'd been blind, deaf, and stupid, I might have bought that. "Then why are you shaking like a reed?"

She stood there for a few seconds before whimpering. "I promise I won't tell anyone about your secret, I swear!"

"What secret?" I asked. If Sam knew I was a Ward, why was she afraid? She didn't have any reason to be scared of me. I mean, I'm a hero, for God's sake!

"That…that you're a gangster…"

At that moment, my mind just stopped. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. My best friend thought I was a gangster. How the hell did that happen?

"What…" I eventually blurted out.

"Well, you shot three people and you're from Winslow, so I thought…"

I spent the next few minutes staring at her blankly. I wanted to slap her on the back of the head and call her an idiot, but I couldn't deny that she kind of had a point. From her perspective, that must look pretty bad.

"You're not really a gangster, are you?" She said, biting her lip. "I'm an idiot."

I rubbed my brow. I just can't stop scaring people, can't I? "Yes. Yes, you are. I'm a Ward, Sam." As much as I wanted to keep that a secret, I couldn't have her drawing the wrong conclusions. If she starts spreading rumors, what I'd done could snowball into something terrible.

"What? Seriously?" She replied. "Wards don't shoot people. That's like…excessive violence, or something."

If only she knew… "Not when there's four Nazis with guns trying to kidnap me and my friend."

She wasn't convinced. "But still…"

"Nazis with guns, Sam. They're acceptable targets and I didn't even kill them." I chuckled sheepishly. "Maybe I should rephrase that…"

Sam's eyes widened. "Oh. My. God. You're Shadow Stalker!"

For the second time in less than five minutes, my mind came to a screeching halt. I turned to a nearby wall and bashed my head against it. I wasn't going to cry. I wasn't going to murder her. That Sam made the connection was just a coincidence. Banshee didn't have that many public appearances yet, so it's not that surprising that she'd think I was someone else.

But still, Shadow Stalker? That hurt in a way she could never understand.

"I'm not Shadow Stalker, Sam." I replied, keeping my voice even. "She's stuck in a Simurgh Quarantine Zone."

"Oh. Right. Yeah, I read about that." She bit her lip and looked apologetically. "Just thought, since…you know."

I groaned. "Yeah. Anyway, we need to talk about this, okay? There's a lot of stuff about capes not on PHO and I don't want you getting killed because you broke some rule you never heard off. So, when school's out, you're going to come to my place and we can talk all about powers and what you're going to do with them."

Sam froze for an instant, but calmed down soon after. "Okay."

"Good. Now would you please stop shaking every time I walk into the room. People are going to talk."

"Yeah, next thing you know, everyone thinks we're a couple, or something." She smiled wryly and went on her way. Well, let's see how long that lasts.

As it turned out, all throughout the day. Somewhere along the line, Sam's brain started working and she stopped looking at me like I was going to eat her. I will admit that that was a relief for me too. The last thing I needed was a ruined friendship. At the end of the day, she took me aside and said: "Just called my mom. She's coming to pick us up. If you don't mind coming to my place, that is."

Judging by the look she just gave me, I didn't get the impression that coming to my place was really an option. "No problem. I guess she won't let us walk home after Monday."

"No. No, she wouldn't." She turned away from me before saying: "Look, I'm sorry. It's just…"

"I understand, Sam. Believe me, I do." I put my arm around her in hopes of calming her down, but it didn't seem to do much.

"School is safe, okay? There are Wards and teachers and tons of people making sure that stuff doesn't happen. Home is safe too, because the cops still patrol my neighborhood. The streets in-between though…I just…" The poor thing was fighting to hold back her tears. A healthy reaction, I suppose.

"It's okay. We won't let anything happen, all right?"

She nodded furiously. A car pulled up and Sam immediately tensed. I held her hand, but she didn't relax until the car passed. I sighed. I wasn't an expert, but I'm pretty sure that's post-traumatic stress disorder. One of these days, I'd have to look and see if the PRT had courses on how to handle this sort of thing. Until then, it was probably best to push her attention onto something else.

"Do your parents know about…this?" I asked.

"My powers?" She whispered. "Yes. A PRT guy came by last night. Massani, or something?"

I nodded. "Sarge. He's a good guy."

Sam snorted in response. "Oh, he's nice, alright. When he wasn't telling me how I should totally join the Wards and how being an independent was going to get me killed." She was probably exaggerating, but I knew how pushy the PRT could be. In her emotional state, Sam and her family could easily misinterpret 'aggressive recruitment' as 'conscription'.

"You know they can't actually force you to do anything, right?" I asked. "No is no. The PRT can bend the rules all it likes, but they can't shanghai you into the Wards if you don't want to join."

"Sure doesn't sound like that. All I heard was how great the program was and how I'd totally be safe with them. No downsides at all, no sirree." She sighed, before looking at me and asking: "Please tell me you're not going to throw me a recruitment pitch too? I'm just…tired of that."

"Well, I'm kind of obliged to. Besides, Wards ENE is still a sausage fest, even with me, Vista, and Insight around. Always nice to have more girls on the team." I said with a chuckle. I meant it, though. Sam would fit in just fine, I think. "However, no is no and if you don't want to, that's fine. Just…try thinking about it. It took me three months before I joined, so it's not like you have to make a decision now."

"Okay then." She said.

Before long, the awkward silence between us was broken by a SUV driven by someone whom I presumed was Sam's mother. "Samantha! Ready to go home?" The older woman said. Yep, definitely Sam's mom.

"She actually calls you 'Samantha'?" I asked. Sam groaned, lowering her head in embarrassment. I think she's even blushing a little.

"Oh, and you must be Taylor! How nice to meet you. Please come in."

I jumped in the back seat. "A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Rogers."

"Oh, call me Diana. C'mon, let's go home."

Diana was, on the surface, your typical mother. I learned that she was a stay-at-home mom for the most part, though she did mention working for a group that represented the interests of Brockton Bay's Jewish community along with her husband. Apparently, the foundation was just about all she talked about, much to Sam's chagrin. For some reason, Sam didn't try to stop her. I guess this happened too often for her to even bother. All in all, Diana Rogers struck me as a rather boring person with not much to talk about.

Not that I was much of a talker, but at least I had an excuse. Most of the interesting stuff in my life was need-to-know.

When we got to their house, Sam dragged me over to her room. I had to admit, the Rogers family had a nice place to live. Compared to mine, anyway. It was large, clean, and well taken care of. While not a palace, it was clear that Sam's family was reasonably wealthy. Hell, Sam even had a half-decent computer in her own room, a luxury I couldn't even dream of.

Eventually, we sat down and talked about cape stuff. I could tell that Sam didn't really want to, but she needed to hear what I had to say. It didn't help that my description of the cape world was rather cynical. If anything, I was aggravating her doubts, not taking them away. Still, it had to be said. Better rip it off all at once like a band-aid. Besides, I was only confirming what she already knew at some level. She knew how the world worked. Sugar-coating was pointless.

By the time dinner came along, Sam's mother had excused herself. Apparently something big had come up at her foundation and her husband needed her help. As she left, I asked Sam: "Does this happen a lot?"

"Yeah." The girl softly replied. "Foundation isn't doing too well. Hasn't been for as long as I can remember. But, well, someone's gotta do it and if Peter and Diana Rogers won't, no one will. At least she left us dinner this time."

That…that was the saddest thing I've ever heard. "Do you have any idea how badly I want to hug you right now?"

"It's okay. I'm used to it. It's their way of helping. If the entire city gets better, I won't be attacked, you know?"

I really had nothing to say to that. At least Dad took some time off to take care of me when I really needed it. While his brand of help didn't accomplish much, it was nice to know that he actually tried. This, though? I was seriously considering calling Child Services, right about now.

Changing the subject to something a little less depressing, I asked: "So, powers. You haven't said what you're going to do with them."

Sam winched. "Yeah, I think I'm not going to. Be a cape, I mean. It's just…" She swallowed. "I don't want to paint a target on my family's head, you know."

I rubbed my brow. This must be the fifth time we've discussed this. "You know what I said about the unwritten rules?"

"Yeah, but they're unwritten. I think Kaiser will make an exception for a Jewish cape."

"Not a Ward, he won't. Not if he wants to stay alive." I looked at her skeptically. Her heart rate was slightly off. There was something she wasn't telling me. "Okay, spit it out."

"Spit what out?"

"You're a terrible liar, Sam. You not wanting to join the Wards has nothing to do with Triple E retaliation. I mean, when was the last time a Ward got assassinated? It just doesn't happen because anyone with two brain cells will know that if they try, the Protectorate will come down on them like a ton of bricks. So, what's the real reason?" I mulled over what I just said and realized that I might have been a little too forceful. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me, just…"

"No…no, you deserve to know." The girl sighed. "Look, you know how you said your dad has it bad? Well, it's the same for my parents, except they have Empire 88 to worry about too. Still, they keep on fighting, because if they won't no one will."

"That's admirable, I suppose." It sounded like what my dad was doing with the Dockworkers Association. If Sam's parents had the same amount of success as he had, I can imagine why she thinks they're just wasting time.

"It would be, if there was any point to it. I mean, if the economy gets better, the dockworkers might have a chance, but us? When I was born, there were fifteen thousand Jews in Brockton Bay. Now, there're maybe a few hundred families left; just the people too poor or too stubborn to leave. Nobody cares about us anymore. My parents aren't just fighting a losing battle, they're fighting one they've already lost."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Kaiser's going to slip up someday and when he and the Empire are gone…"

"People aren't going to come back. Why would they? It's Brockton Fucking Bay, principle exports: supervillains and misery. It's just… They're tearing themselves apart, trying to save something that can't be saved and I…" She sat down in a chair, visibly fighting the urge to cry. "I want to beat the stupid out of them. Just get them to leave town like all my childhood friends did. We have the money and the community is gone anyway. There's nothing left for us here that we can't get somewhere else. Hell, I've told them just that like a hundred times but they won't listen. They just keep beating their heads against the wall. So what does that have to do with me, huh? Well, you remember last fall when the last synagogue went up in flames?"

Much to my embarrassment, I didn't. "Actually, I must have missed that."

She snorted. "Yeah, most people have. A 'gas leak', supposedly. Didn't even make front page news. The cops couldn't prove it, but everyone knew E88 did it. Anyway, when my dad appealed to the city council for money to rebuild it, they said no. Officially, the money was needed elsewhere. Unofficially, the mayor just wasn't willing to pay for something that was going to get burned down within a month anyway."

"Well, that's rough."

"Cherry on the cake: the Rabbi decided to skip town a few days later. Dad…Dad blamed himself like he always does and vowed to work even harder. With Mom's blessing, of course, because it was 'the right thing to do'. It's then that I decided I wasn't going to end up like them. I'm not going to spend my life fighting for a lost cause. I'm not going to end up in the hospital at least once a year because a bunch of skinheads decided to use me as batting practice. I'm not going to miss dinner with my only child because I'm just too busy fighting for other people's families to worry about my own. No, I'm going to college, get a nice job, marry a nice guy, raise a couple of children, and die peacefully in my sleep knowing that I didn't waste my life fighting for a hopeless cause. Yes, it's selfish, but fuck the universe. God owes my people big time and it's about time I got to cash in." By the time she was done ranting, Sam was visibly shaking. Forget me being scary, I was getting worried about her.

I put an arm around her. I think she needed it.

Sam chuckled mirthlessly. "I was thinking, yesterday, about how my powers were going to change things. I had an Alexandria phase once, you know. Thought, maybe being a hero would be fun. Then, I remembered everything I've learned about being a Ward over the past few years. Getting powers was supposed to be like a dream come true but…all I could think of was that nice, peaceful future I wanted. Whatever the PRT says, if I become a hero, I'll have to give that up. I'm not going to college, I'm not going to have a career or a family, and I will probably die fighting some supervillain or an Endbringer or whatever. I'm going to be just like my parents and I…I don't want that, Taylor. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." As much as I hated to admit it, she kind of had a point. While I'd never say it in public, being a hero for me was more about having a purpose than it was actually fixing the city. Besides, defeating the gangs won't change Brockton Bay. So long as there's poverty, the gangs won't go away. The best people like me can do is hold the line and keep things from getting worse. Play the long game. For me, that's acceptable. It's not what I'd like to see, but at least I can feel good about myself. However, if you're the kind of person who's trying to introduce big, sweeping changes, it won't be enough. Brockton Bay would just rip you apart, just like Sam's parents were.

"I'm not like you. I can't throw myself into a fight without a second thought. I…I'm a selfish bitch."

"No, you're human. That happens."

She sighed and huddled a little closer. "Yeah, guess it does."